Darkness Reigns
by Seething Pyro
Summary: Draco turns to Voldemort and is assigned to capture Hermione. Will Hermione realize what he's up to, or will she join him as well because of Harry and Ron constantly ignoring her. Will a relationship blossom or will it all get turned around?
1. A Meeting

CHAPTER 1  
  
He descended the stairs that led into the long, dark, stone hallway. Today was the day he would prove himself true to his name. This was the day he would prove just how ruthless he could be. It was the day he would make his father proud. Finally, at the age of seventeen, he would be able to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. This had been his lifelong dream. Nothing and no one would stand in his way.  
  
The dank corridor was lined with few torches. There were no windows, as it was a dungeon, and no heat had made its way that far underground. The pale young man could see his breath as he made his way through the meandering passageway toward the chambers it held within. A large crowd would be there, no doubt. All of the Death Eaters would finally get to see the powers, which he possessed, not just the inner circle. He would no longer play second fiddle to Harry Potter-The Boy Who Should Have Died. He would now prove that he was much more powerful than that worthless half blood.  
  
As he had suspected, a large crowd of Death Eaters had made a giant circle around the room. Some had brought their children along to see what becoming a Death Eater entailed. It was very hard to say no to the Dark Lord. In the center of the room stood a very thin, very tall man with long fingers and narrow slits that held cruel, red eyes. He was so white that he could have passed for a ghost. The young man approached and dropped to one knee before him.  
  
The older man looked down on the boy before him and said, "Rise, Draco Malfoy. Join the ranks of my Death Eaters. Prove your loyalty to me. Sell your soul to me."  
  
The boy known as Draco replied in a smooth, even voice, "My Lord, I pledge to you my soul and my life. I will make whatever sacrifices necessary in your name."  
  
"What do you hate?" the older man asked.  
  
"I hate Muggles and Mudbloods and everyone who cares for or protects them. I especially despise those who do not support you and those who fear your name. And I especially despise Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore."  
  
The evil lord laughed, a cruel and mirthless laugh, his red eyes were glinting maliciously. "You have learned well, young Malfoy. I expect that you will be much like your father. I can already see many of his better characteristics shining through you. You will do me well. Now, to prove your unwavering loyalty to me, you will perform the Killing Curse on the prisoner I set before you."  
  
Draco inclined his head slightly, a sign that he understood his task and would do as the Dark Lord asked of him. A raven-haired boy with bright blue eyes was thrown on the floor before him. The boy looked up at Draco with frightened eyes. His face was bruised and blood was dripping from under his hair. This boy was a good friend of Draco's. His name was Blaise Zabini. They had been friends since birth.  
  
"Draco-Draco, please don't do this to me," he pleaded. "I have never done anything-anything at all to hurt you. I swear I never gave anyone any information. Please, Draco. Please spare me." His voice quivered with every word. A sure sign that he was frightened beyond belief.  
  
On the exterior, Draco remained stoic, but inside he could feel himself breaking to pieces. Here he was, swearing himself to the Dark Lord, but his ultimate test of loyalty would be killing his best friend. He knew he had to do it, or they would both die. "I'm sorry, Blaise," he whispered. Blaise nodded and bent his head to his chest, closing his eyes. Draco raised his wand and pointed it at the broken boy on the floor. "Avada Kedavra!" With a green flash of light, the boy, who had once been his best friend, lie breathless on stone cold floor.  
  
Voldemort's laugh could be heard once again, echoing through the silence. "Well done, Malfoy. I am proud of where it is your loyalties lie. Hold out your left arm."  
  
Draco did as he was told, but felt as if he was ready to vomit. His stomach was churning uncomfortably as Voldemort placed his wand on Draco's pale flesh. After whispering a few words, Draco felt unbearable pain shoot through his entire body. It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tightly to keep from screaming out in pain. As the white-hot pain subsided, Draco let his breath out slowly and stared down at the black skull, which dared to show on his perfect skin. It looked so unnatural.  
  
After a few seconds, he looked back to Voldemort, who was still wearing a twisted grin. "And now, young Malfoy, for my last surprise." He snapped his finger, and a masked figure stepped out to the center of the circle and pulled his mask off, revealing his blue eyes and black hair.  
  
Draco's jaw dropped. "But I just killed you." He looked down at the pile of robes that was still on the floor, where the figure that he had assumed was Blaise still lay.  
  
"No," Voldemort shook his head. "That was simply a test to see where your loyalties lie, and they are obviously in the right place. Zabini was inducted last week. He agreed to all this."  
  
Draco nodded once and bowed deeply before taking his place in the inner circle next to his father. Lucius Malfoy couldn't have cared less if he had become a Death Eater. All he cared about was himself and Lord Voldemort. Briefly, Draco closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, awaiting his orders. Slowly, he pulled his mask over his head. As Voldemort went around the circle, Draco paid close attention, not wanting to miss a thing.  
  
Finally, Voldemort stopped in front of Draco. Draco bowed his head, as he knew he should. "Your first assignment should be quite simple. I want you to capture Hermione Granger by Christmas. She will be useful in helping us capture Potter. I do not care how you do it, but I want her." Draco bowed once more, indicating that he understood.  
  
After the meeting, Draco apparated back to his room in the Malfoy Manor and punched a whole in his wall. Anger surged throughout his body, making him quiver. Never in his life had he been more upset with his father. He had always spoken so highly of the Dark Lord. In truth, Draco didn't find him all that appealing. It was all psychology. Voldemort messed with the minds of his followers to confuse them. They all fell for it too because they were so weak minded. There was nothing he could do about it. They did not know how to fight the twisted games the Dark Lord played.  
  
Draco, on the other hand was different. He was able to pick up on the mind games Voldemort played, and his respect for that old wizard was waning, as was the respect he once had for his father.  
  
~  
  
Hermione sat on the bed in the room she shared with Ginny at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. She was reading a book since she had nothing else to do. Last summer, she, the Weasleys and Harry had successfully managed to clean up Sirius' old house and get the portrait of his mother successfully off the wall. This had made Kreacher, the house elf, so upset that he starved himself to death. Out of pure pity, they hung his head on the wall with the rest of the house elves.  
  
This was the third summer in a row that Hermione had spent at the old house. She had become quite fond of spending most of the summer there. Her parents didn't mind, which made things even better. Closing her thick book, she stood and stared out her window. Harry would be arriving later that night, which meant that Hermione would have nothing to do for the remainder of the day. Ginny was out on a date with a boy from Hufflepuff, and Ron was helping Fred and George in their joke shop in Diagon Alley so he could make a few extra galleons.  
  
The sun was just beginning to set out on the horizon. There were still four more weeks until school started. Hermione couldn't wait. But she was still wondering if she would receive the title of Head Girl. It was her main goal throughout all of her Hogwarts days, but she feared that Dumbledore would find someone who was better fit to fill the position.  
  
All of a sudden a crack signaled the arrival of someone in her room. "Hey 'Mione," Ron greeted as he sat down on the edge of her bed.  
  
"Hey, Ron," she responded lethargically, not bothering to look at him. "How was your day?"  
  
"It was great!" he answered, not noticing her lack of interest. "We had so many customers today, and I met this girl. She's gunna be transferring to Hogwarts this year from Durmstrang and she seems really nice. Her name's Rhiannon. She's got black hair and it's streaked purple and her eyes- they're like this orange-red color. They looked like they were on fire. It was amazing. And she's amazing to talk to." He sighed as he stared off into space.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at her redheaded friend. "So you fancy this girl? What year is she in?"  
  
Ron looked up with a perplexed expression on his face, as if her were trying to remember. "Er.I'm not exactly sure. Uh maybe 5th, or it could be 6th, maybe 7th. I don't exactly recall. Whatever, she said she's gunna come back tomorrow. I'll get to see her again."  
  
Hermione wouldn't admit it, but she wasn't really in the mood to discuss Ron's new infatuation. What she really wanted was for someone to see her. No one saw her. They saw the bookworm, the goody-goody Gryffindor. That wasn't her. Well it was to a certain extent, but she was so much more than that. There was so much more to her. She liked excitement. She liked adventure. She liked loud, ear-pounding music. She wanted someone to sweep her off her feet. No one knew any of this. It was all kept secret inside her journal, but she really didn't have anyone to share it with. Ginny was so wrapped up in her boyfriend. Ron was always talking about one girl or another. And Harry was still mourning Sirius' death.  
  
After a few minutes of silence, Ron stood and told Hermione that he was going to wash up for dinner. She let him go without a word and went back to staring out the window. //My best friends don't even know me// she sighed as she leaned her head on her hand. There was nothing she wanted more than to have someone totally unexpected claim her as his.  
  
~  
  
Two weeks before start of term, Draco was sitting in his room, writing out his plans for how to get Granger to be his prisoner. There was the all- powerful Imperious Curse, but that could be fought off. Then there was force. But his favorite thus far was seduction. He would seduce her and make her fall for him and she would be like clay, molding to his every wish.  
  
This thought excited him. He might be the one to put a taint on the Gryffindor golden girl. This also might be the way to break up the Golden Trio. If he could make Potter and Weasley so mad at Granger that they would abandon her, she might make it easy and give them up without so much as a second thought.  
  
All of a sudden a large, brown barn owl tapped on his window. With a frustrated sigh, he let the owl in, grabbed the scroll of parchment off its leg and shooed it away without giving it a treat. The letter was addressed to him, and it was obviously from Hogwarts.  
  
Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,  
  
We are pleased to inform you that you are once again accepted back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for your seventh and final year. Enclosed is a list of your needed school supplies and your Head Boy badge. Congratulations on making this position. You will need to arrive at King's Cross Station by 10 o'clock on 1 September instead of the normal 11 to receive a full explanation of what this position requires. Along with you, Hermione Granger will be in the position of Head Girl. Also enclosed is a list of the Prefects. Good luck. We hope to see you soon.  
  
Professor Albus Dumbledore  
  
Draco pulled his Head Boy badge out of the envelope and looked at it with surprise. He had never imagined that he would be the one seventh year male who would obtain the position of Head Boy. There must have been other worthy candidate for the position. Then again, maybe not. Who else was there, Weasley? Ha! His own name was a joke. After grabbing his supply list from the envelope, he apparated to Diagon Alley to pick up what he needed.  
  
~  
  
Mrs. Weasley yelled up to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. All of them rushed down the stairs, thinking that they were in trouble, but they realized it was nothing when she started handing them their letters from Hogwarts.  
  
Hermione looked at her envelope and compared it to the size of the other three. It seemed considerably larger, and she wondered why. As she tore it open, and shiny silver badge fell into the palm of her hand. It was a Head Girl badge. Her breath caught in her lungs as she looked down at it. Finally, it was here. She had done it. She worked hard enough to make Head Girl. All that studying did pay off.  
  
No one had even noticed that she had suddenly become quiet. They were all too busy in their own affairs to even congratulate her on a job well done. When Hermione realized this she said, "I'm apparating to Diagon Alley to get my supplies." Without waiting for an answer, she left with a crack.  
  
She walked toward Gringotts, the wizard bank. The previous summer she had opened an account there so she could keep her money safe. After she had retrieved some galleons, sickles, and knutts, she started to go in and out of shops, buying what she needed for school.  
  
While she was walking, she started thinking about her friends and how they were separating without even realizing it. Harry had his own mental anguish to deal with and he seemed to have a permanent temper. Ron cared more about working and Rhiannon than he did about anyone else and Ginny was spending a lot of time with Ernie MacMillan, a seventh year Hufflepuff prefect. That was who she said it was anyway. Hermione was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even realize the hand that had knocked all of her books onto the floor. "Oh!" she cried as she stooped to pick them up.  
  
"Excuse me, miss. Here, let me help you," said a masculine voice.  
  
"Oh no, you don't have to-" She looked up with a confounded expression, "Malfoy?"  
  
He didn't respond to her confusion, but rather continued to help her with her supplies. "I'm so sorry. I must not have been watching where I was going. I've been so spaced out lately." He stood, handing her all the books he had knocked out of her hands.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrow slightly at him. "Malfoy, are you okay? Why are you acting so.not like you? It's a-surprising change to say the least."  
  
He smirked at her, but it wasn't his normal smirk that was filled with sarcasm. It was almost close to a smile. "I was just figuring that since we're Head Boy and Girl this year, we might as well be on speaking terms, you know. It would be a lot easier than to be fighting all the time, right? And I'm sure that Dumbledore would appreciate it."  
  
Hermione nodded. She couldn't have agreed more. "That sounds like a plan, Malfoy. It's quite a shock seeing as it's you who suggested it. How can I be sure that this isn't all a ploy to get you ahead somewhere down the line."  
  
"You have my word, Hermione. This is to benefit you and I, no one else. Trust me, it will not get me a position in the Ministry of Magic or something. All I will have is the pleasure to be able to talk to you in a civilized manner."  
  
"And when did I become Hermione? I thought I was Granger or Mudblood. What happened to that?"  
  
"I also figured that we might want to be on a first name basis." His smirk broadened. "I would much prefer it if you called me the name my parents gave to me. So I won't call you Mudblood if you promise not to call me the Amazing Bouncing Ferret. That is one memory I would love to forget."  
  
Hermione smiled and held out her hand to shake his. "It's a deal then, Draco. I'll see you in two weeks."  
  
"Can't wait," he replied as he shook her hand. He watched her turn and head the opposite direction toward the opposite end of Diagon Alley. Step one of his brilliant plan was now in motion. She would soon fall to him. She would succumb to his every wish. He would do with her what he pleased, and when that was all said and done, he would give her to the Dark Lord without a second thought. There was an evil glint in his eyes and his smirk became cruel. He suddenly turned on his heal and headed down into Knockturn Alley to see what kind of trinkets that were filled with dark magic he could find. Sometimes he amazed himself with how bright he could be. By Christmas, Voldemort would have Hermione Granger, and she would help them get to Harry Potter. Once Potter was destroyed, Dumbledore would most likely go down as well because of his compassion for the boy. Soon the Dark Arts would rule the world, and only the Pureblooded wizards and witches would survive. 


	2. A Bet

CHAPTER 2  
  
It was finally the day before school. Hermione and Ron were sitting on Ron's bed while Harry was sitting on his, facing them, so they could talk. Ron and Harry were relaxed while talking to each other, but both were tense when Hermione was involved in the conversation. They had been tense around her all summer, especially since she refused to join the Order of the Phoenix. The Order was allowing she, Ron, and Harry to join so that they would have some members close to both Dumbledore and the students. Harry and Ron seemed all too eager to join, but Hermione was a different story. She felt that she wasn't quite ready to be part of something so big yet, and frankly, it frightened her some.  
  
"Come on, Hermione," Harry said. "Why don't you just join already? You still can now, before we go back. We need you Hermione. You can be such an asset."  
  
Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Why, can't you just let it be, Harry? If I'm not ready, I'm not ready. There's nothing else to it."  
  
Ron looked at Harry. They shared a knowing glance then Ron said, "Maybe you're ready, but not ready to join our side."  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked with an air of indignation, while flipping her hair over her shoulder.  
  
He took a deep breath then continued. "The day you went to Diagon Alley, I saw you with Malfoy. So did Fred and George. You shook hands with him right outside of their shop. Did you think that no one saw you? Are you working for You-Know-Who now? Are you in a league with them?" He spit the word out as if it were vile, not worth the effort he wasted on it.  
  
"Malfoy and I just decided to be civil to one another because we are Head Boy and Girl this year. There is no way I would ever join forces with Voldemort. You must be out of your mind to even think something like that! The whole lot of you. Just because I won't join the Order yet does not mean that I am becoming a Death Eater. I cannot believe that you could accuse me of doing something so horrible! We've only been friends for six years, but I guess that doesn't matter to either of you!" she huffed.  
  
Harry glared at her as if she had said something wrong. "So it's you and Malfoy now, huh? He asks you to trust him, and just like that you do? I can't believe you Hermione."  
  
Hermione stood and glared down at the raven-haired boy. "What the heck is wrong with you Harry? Ever since fifth year, it's like you can't trust anyone. Everything is about you all of a sudden. Cedric died in front of you, so you want everyone to be sympathetic to you. Sirius died and you look for more sympathy. But here's a newsflash for you: WE HAVE OUR OWN PROBLEMS! It's not always about you, Harry. And if you can't accept the fact that Draco and I might just be friends, then I don't know how good of a friend you are."  
  
Ron and Harry looked at each other, sharing disbelieving glances. Harry then looked up at the amber eyed girl and whispered, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I should've known that you would never betray us. You've been one of my best friends for six years, and I should really trust you. You're right, you know. I have been very selfish, and moody. I don't mean to be. It's just with everything going on. I am really sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"  
  
Ron nodded in agreement. "And since I've met Rhiannon, I've done nothing but hang out with her and talk about her when you're around. I know that even though you haven't said anything about it, I haven't been such a good friend, and I'm sorry."  
  
One tear leaked from the corner of Hermione's large, dark eyes, and she enveloped her two best friends in a bone-crushing hug. No words were exchanged, just the strong bond between three great friends.  
  
After a long period of silence, Harry said, "And Hermione, don't worry about the Order and everything. I know that you're under a lot of stress what with schoolwork and Head Girl duties and everything, and you don't need this added to your shoulders as well. I won't push you to join. I will leave that in your hands."  
  
Hermione smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Harry. I'm so glad you understand. Thank you both." And with that, she retired to her room to prepare for the next day's events.  
  
Back in the boy's room, Harry and Ron were talking in hushed voices, so that no one would hear them. Ron shook his head at Harry, who was changing into his pajamas. "I can't believe you believe her. It's ludicrous. She and Malfoy obviously have some kind of deal going, otherwise they wouldn't have shook hands on it. Enemies don't just decide to become friends. You know that. That would be like you just suddenly taking up with You-Know- Who for no reason."  
  
Harry rolled his emerald eyes at his citrus haired friend. "Can't you just say his name already? And no, I do not believe Hermione in the slightest. She could at least come up with a better story. I was just telling her that so she'd leave. Who the hell does she think she is, telling me how to act? It's almost as if she doesn't want to help me out anymore, which would make sense. Her and Malfoy, allied with Voldemort." (Ron visibly flinched, but said nothing). "Of course she wouldn't care about us anymore. She's got bigger fish to fry."  
  
Ron nodded and finished dressing. "She'll get what's coming to her. We'll make sure of that."  
  
With that, both boys hopped into bed and blew out their candles so they could get some sleep for the next day.  
  
~  
  
Draco waited impatiently for the arrival of the house elves that were supposed to be packing his things for Hogwarts. It had been ten seconds since he had called for them and they still had not arrived. With a sudden crack, three small elves were running around the large room, neatly packing Draco's trunk with everything he'd need for that school year. They were very efficient, and their tiny feet scuttled from one end of the room to the other, making sure they hadn't forgotten anything.  
  
As Draco watched the elves pack, one strand of hair fell from its place and into his piercing grey eyes. He went over to his mirror and tried to fix it without gel, but it didn't work, so he decided to ruffle his blonde locks so that his hair fell across his forehead in a nonchalant manner. As he studied himself, he realized that he liked this new look better, and decided that this year would bring about many new changes.  
  
When he turned back around, the house elves had disappeared and his trunk was placed carefully in the center of the room with his black eagle owl, perched peacefully in its cage, was placed on top. He took hold of his luggage and disapparated to Platform 9 ¾ without bothering to bid his parents farewell. It wasn't as if they cared anyway.  
  
The normally crowded platform was entirely empty. He decided to go into the Head's compartment, since that was most likely where they would be meeting. When he arrived there, Hermione was already sitting, with a book in hand.  
  
"Hello, Hermione," Draco said with a smile as he sat down on the bench across from her.  
  
Hermione peered over the edge of her book, a slight smile tugging at her lips at the sight of him. "Hello, Draco. How are you?" she asked courteously.  
  
"I'm fine, and how are you doing?" he responded, even though it sounded a bit formal. He didn't know what else to say.  
  
"I'm good."  
  
At that moment, Professor McGonagall walked into the compartment entered the compartment, along with Professor Snape. Neither looked to be in an overly exuberant mood, which was unusual for being back at school for the first day.  
  
"Now," McGonagall stated, rather harshly; probably more harshly than intended, "this year you two will be sharing many responsibilities. First off, you will both monitor the halls for an hour after lights out."  
  
"And you will also be sharing a common room," Snape added with a disgusted look on his face.  
  
For the next forty-five minutes, the two professors talked to their top students about all their duties. Both Hermione and Draco exchanged bored looks more than once throughout their long speech. It also seemed as if they were competing for who could explain the most in the shortest amount of time, which neither would have one because they went on forever.  
  
Finally, when the two adults departed, both Draco and Hermione began laughing. Neither said a thing, and they didn't know what was so funny, but they just laughed until they couldn't breathe.  
  
An uncomfortable silence fell over them as the train began to roll away, leaving behind the waving parents and siblings out on the platform.  
  
Draco stared blankly out the window, silently cursing himself for not saying anything more to her. He needed her to trust him, to hang on to his every word. If he wasn't able to communicate with her, how could his master's plans be carried out? Every time he looked at her, however, she seemed so absorbed in whatever she was reading that he didn't really want to bother her at all.  
  
As the fields of green rushed passed, he started thinking up things he might want to say to her in his mind, but as he opened his mouth to speak, he decided that he'd probably sound like an idiot and decided against it.  
  
After what seemed like forever, he finally said, "So what is it that you're reading?"  
  
"Oh, this is just a silly Muggle novel," she responded with a shrug. "Nothing for school or anything like that. It's called Sabriel, by Garth Nix. It's about this girl who knows magic, but it's just this guy's view of magic, nothing like what we do, but it's still an interesting read."  
  
Draco nodded stupidly. He had never heard about Muggle authors who wrote about magic, but he didn't want to make himself sound ignorant. "So what classes are you taking this year? Full schedule again, I presume?"  
  
Hermione chuckled slightly. "No, not this year. Almost a full schedule, but not quite. I decided to take it a little easier this year than I have been. A few free periods might actually prove useful."  
  
To his amazement, he let a light laugh escape his lips. "I see you've learned something from taking all those classes for six years."  
  
"Yes, Draco, that is the one thing I've learned after all these years," she replied in a slightly sarcastic tone, but still in a joking manner.  
  
For the rest of the trip, they conversed about school and what they wanted to be once they graduated. Hermione still wasn't sure, but she was thinking either and Auror or a writer. Draco said that he was still undecided, but would probably work for the Ministry.  
  
~  
  
Once they arrived at the familiar castle, Draco and Hermione rode together in a horseless carriage. Hermione, though she wouldn't admit it aloud, was enjoying the company of the boy who was once her enemy. Draco kept subconsciously stealing glances at her, even though once he realized it he would scold himself and remind him that it was just for the plan. He still didn't remotely like her, and only wanted her to trust him so that he could carry on with the wishes of his Lord. This started another mental argument because he still was not overly thrilled about working for Voldemort. The assignments the Death Eaters were given were ridiculous, but he knew that now that he was in, there was no way of getting out.  
  
The Sorting Ceremony seemed to last forever, longer than usual. Harry and Ron were seated on either side of Hermione, as usual. All three of them clapped enthusiastically as new first years were sorted into the Gryffindor House. For some reason they all seemed rather small this year. At the end, Professor McGonagall called, "Saradia, Rhiannon." Hermione noticed that Ron's head snapped to full attention as the older girl placed that Sorting Hat upon her head. It was a while, but the hat finally decided to place her in Ravenclaw. She appeared uneasy as she made her way over to the cheering table, but she glanced over at Ron and smiled nonetheless.  
  
Finally, it was over and Dumbledore stood up and said, "Dig in!" Food magically appeared on all the tables. The first years were amazed, but the older students just did as they were told and dug into the platters set before them. They piled their plates with chicken and pork and rice and whatever else had been set before them.  
  
Ron and Harry appeared to be deep in conversation. Hermione felt left out that she once again was not a part of their lives, but she pretended not to notice. Instead, her eyes drifted around the Great Hall and eventually landed on the Slytherin table-on a certain blonde, who sat among the others as if her were some sort of prince. He very well might be for all she knew. Draco's eyes glanced up and met hers. She felt a blush creep up to her cheeks, and she looked away. Draco smirked and turned back to talk to Blaise.  
  
Blaise saw all that had happened and smirked at Draco. "How are things going with the Mudblood, Malfoy? Think you'll be able to get her?"  
  
Draco rolled his eyes at his best friend. "Have I ever failed yet, Zabini?"  
  
Blaise pretended to ponder his response for a moment, but he turned back to his friend wearing a sly smile. "I'll do you one better, Draco. Not only will you use her for your assignment, but, as a bet between friends, you have to bed her before the holiday?"  
  
Taking in the situation, he surveyed the girl seated at the Gryffindor table. She had become interested in the food she was eating after he had caught her looking at him. Her bushy hair fell over her eyes, and her robes were slightly too big, but he thought he was up for the challenge. "What's in it for you?"  
  
"Just the pleasure of seeing the Golden Girl tainted. And I will give you 50 galleons. Oh, and if you don't do it before the holiday, I get her once she's settled in at your place."  
  
With one final glance at Hermione, he looked back at Blaise, and held out his hand. "You're on, and believe me, she'll be like putty in my hands way before the holiday. She's already falling for me, you know. And it's all because of my dashingly good looks and my charm."  
  
"Are you sure it's not 'cause of your over-inflated ego?" Blaise joked. Both boys laughed heartily, much to the dismay of the other Slytherins. It was very rare to see any Slytherin wearing a smile, let alone those two. Everyone around them was very confused.  
  
Once dinner had consummated, Draco and Hermione were led up to their common room. It was on the eighth floor, much to their dismay, and it was behind a tapestry that was in the far corner. Unless someone knew it was there, no one would ever find it. Beyond the tapestry was a simple ebony door with a silver knob. It could be unlocked with a simple unlocking spell.  
  
The inside was beautifully decorated with big poufy armchairs, couches, and loveseats. They were all either black or a soft grey. The walls were painted an ice white color, but they could be changed to whatever colors the Head Boy and Girl agreed on, and the same went for their bedrooms. On either side of the room was a desk-one for each of them. There were two sets of stairs that led up to a single balcony. On the right side was Hermione's bedroom and Draco's was on the left. Between the rooms was a large bathroom, similar to the one the prefects shared. The tub was the size of a pool and had a diving board. Hundreds of taps lined the edges, and each spat out a different scent or bubbles or water. There was also a large sink and a stall with a toilet. The bedrooms were identical. Both held a king-sized bed, a chest-of-drawers, and a walk-in closet. There was also a balcony just outside the large windows that connected the two rooms. Each also had another desk inside their room, where they could leave their personal things.  
  
The beauty of the common room amazed Hermione. Never had she had the opportunity to live in such an extravagant place. She had seen pictures of rooms such as this one, but only ever dreamt about living in one.  
  
Draco, on the other hand, was indifferent. The Malfoy Manor was much more lavishing than this common room could ever be. Centuries were spent on beautifying that house that nothing could ever top it in elegance. He lazily sprawled on one of the couches with his weight supported on one elbow and one leg planted on the floor while the other was dangling over the arm. His hair fell over his stormy eyes as he looked up at Hermione. "So," he said in a bored tone, "what color do you want the room to be? I'll leave that choice up to you, even if that choice does happen to be," he waved his wand once, "pink, or," he waved it again, "purple. Or perhaps you'd even like it to be," with another flick of his wand, "black?"  
  
Hermione grinned and waved her wand. The walls turned a deep, blood red. "What about this, Draco? Does this meet with you approval?"  
  
Draco shook his head, with a slight smile. "You Gryffindors and your damn pride. But, if you really want such a bold color, I guess we can leave it this way for the time being."  
  
"Don't worry, Draco. We can change its color every two months if you wish. Next time it will be your turn to choose," she suggested with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
"Well, Draco, I am feeling quite fatigued and I want to be up in time for classes tomorrow, so I think I shall head up to bed."  
  
"Very well then. Good night."  
  
"'Night." 


	3. A New Trio

CHAPTER 3  
  
Hermione awoke the next morning to the sound of rushing water. Turning over, she looked at the clock on her bedside table. It was only six. She wondered if Malfoy always woke up so early, and tried to go back to sleep, but found it quite impossible. Groggily, she stood up and stretched her arms way over her head until her back cracked.  
  
What she really wanted to do just then was listen to some of her Muggle music, but she didn't know how well that would go over with Draco, so she decided against it. Instead, she walked out onto the balcony and looked out over the horizon at the rising sun. It was really beautiful that morning. She didn't know how long she had been out there, but was startled when the door leading to the room next to hers opened and Draco stepped outside as well. His hair was still slightly damp and was falling in his eyes.  
  
"Good morning," he said with a smile.  
  
"'Morning, Draco," she responded. He was about to say something else when she said, "Are you finished in the bathroom? I really need a bath." His response was a nod and a perplexed expression.  
  
He watched her walk back into her room, her hair fanning out behind her. //She's very pretty// he thought. //For a Mudblood anyway// He returned to his room and laid down on his bed. It was incredible that he had never noticed her beauty before. He knew that his feelings were of pure lust. They had to be. If emotions got involved, he would be screwed.  
  
Sighing, he stood up and grabbed his bag off the floor. He headed down to the common room, where he decided to wait for Hermione so they could walk down to breakfast together. He figured it would take her a while to finish, so he pulled out a book and began to read. That's why he was surprised when she walked down the stairs, fully dressed and ready to go.  
  
"What are you still doing here, Draco? I figured you'd be half way through breakfast by now," Hermione said when she saw him sitting on the couch.  
  
"Half way through breakfast? Are you kidding? You didn't take long enough up there for me to walk down to the Great Hall!" he retorted with a slight smile. "Anyway, I was waiting for you to come down so that we could walk down to breakfast together. It would make a good impression, you know, and maybe inter-house relations will improve. That's always a main goal of the school, isn't it?"  
  
Hermione stared at Draco half in shock, half in amazement that he would even think about inter-house relations.  
  
"It's all right, Granger. You don't gotta say anything, but at least walk with me. I'm starving." He shoved his book into his bag and walked over to her, shuffling her out the door and passed the tapestry. His hand was holding onto her elbow as they continued down the corridor toward the staircase.  
  
Finally reality hit her and she pulled away from Draco's grasp. "I can walk perfectly fine by myself, thank you," she stated indignantly.  
  
"It didn't look that way from where I was standing," he mumbled.  
  
Hermione glared at him. "Is that so? How did it look to you, Malfoy?" He raised an eyebrow in response and headed down the staircase. "Oh! That is real mature! Are you not decent enough to answer my question? What happened to inter-house relations?"  
  
"Aha!" He stopped and faced her, standing a step below her, so that they were about eye level with each other. "You see, that's where this all stems from, Hermione. I mentioned that I thought that idea of inter-house relations sounded like a good idea and you froze like a statue or something, so I decided to lead you out of the common room so we could eat and you got all pissy at me. Contrary to popular belief, I do care about the fate of the houses and I want to leave knowing that I made a difference in reuniting them once again." His subconscious was laughing at the words that had just sprouted from his mouth, but he paid no attention. To get ahead in the world, he knew he had to lie, and lie he would. It was one thing he did well.  
  
Hermione folded her arms across her chest and stared into his eyes defiantly. "Well I'm sorry that the thought of you actually caring about the school stunned me. I was under the impression that the only person you cared about was yourself, but-maybe I should have realized differently when I met you in Diagon Alley over the summer," she finished softly, allowing her arms to fall back to her sides.  
  
He reached up and caressed her cheek softly. "You had every right to believe what you did. I should have only expected that reaction after the way I've treated you over the years. I'm sorry for all of that." Slowly, he leaned toward her and softly covered her lips with his.  
  
For the second time that morning, Hermione was stunned. No one had kissed her before, not even Viktor Krum. She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, before she realized what was happening and she quickly pulled away. "We-we shouldn't do that," she stuttered, looking everywhere but into his eyes.  
  
Smirking a little he tilted her chin so she had to look at him. "Why not? You know you liked it."  
  
His grey eyes seemed to bore into her cinnamon-colored orbs. "That has nothing to do with it," she whispered. "One of us will end up getting hurt."  
  
"That's not true!" he stated harshly. Hermione's jaw quivered a little as she was forced to remain where she was standing. "I-I didn't mean-I didn't want-I'm sorry," he stammered as he looked up at her. For some reason he didn't want to lie to her just then. The look on her face made him feel a pang of sadness inside. It would be impossible to tell her what he was supposed to do though, so he left it at sorry. "We should really get down to breakfast before your friends start to worry that I did something to you."  
  
"What friends?" she scoffed as they continued down the stairs and to the next landing.  
  
"Potthead and Weasel," he said slowly.  
  
Hermione actually started laughing. "I don't know how good of friends they could be considered at the moment. They seem to think they're better than me 'cause they're involved in something I have no desire to be a part of."  
  
Draco's head began throbbing. If they weren't friends then Voldemort would have to find a new way to go about getting Potter. Once he had a chance he would write a note to his father, telling him to relay the new bit of information.  
  
"Well then they're not exactly good friends. I always seemed to think that you three were the inseparable Golden Trio. Is that not so anymore?"  
  
Hermione just shrugged. She didn't really want to talk about it at the moment. She had no idea what was going through Harry and Ron's heads. If they were friends or not wasn't really up to her anymore. It was up to the two of them at this point.  
  
Draco seemed to take the hint and didn't push any farther. They would be arriving at the Great Hall soon anyway and would soon have to part ways to go to their House tables.  
  
Right before they entered the Great Hall, Draco turned to her and said, "If you ever need anything, I'll be here for you to talk to. Okay?"  
  
She nodded. "Thank you, Draco."  
  
"Anytime." He kissed her softly once more and walked through the doors, heading for his table.  
  
As soon as he sat down and grabbed a piece of toast, a hand clasped down on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up into the mocking eyes of Blaise Zabini. He rolled his eyes at his best friend. "What do you want?"  
  
"Well, that was some disgusting display of affection back there!" he joked. "I guess you were right when you said that she was falling for you. Although, it does appear that she is having a similar affect on you." He raised his eyebrow questioningly.  
  
"Yeah right," Draco scoffed as he buttered his toast. "What makes you think that? I am simply doing this for our Lord and the 50 galleons you will owe me. That's it. I do not have any feelings for that-thing. Ugh! How could you even think something like that? It ain't even like she's pretty or something. I think you have some problems to work out in your mind."  
  
Blaise laughed as he looked at his friend and then over at the Gryffindor table, where Draco's eyes had traveled. "If you have no feelings for her, as you claim, then why are you looking at her, and why are you getting so damn defensive over a joke? You are just giving yourself away."  
  
Draco decided not to answer, but studied Hermione instead. She still sat across from Potter and Weasley as usual, so not all hope was lost. Hopefully they still told her enough so that she could relay the right messages when it was time.  
  
Hermione was sitting quietly at her table facing Harry and Ron, who appeared not to notice her once again. They were talking about the girls they had a crush on.  
  
Once again, it was not her favorite topic of conversation. //At least Draco cares about what I think and lets me talk to him// She nibbled on a piece of toast as she drifted away in thought.  
  
The schedules were soon being passed around the table. Hermione had Advanced Potions first, followed by Advanced Transfigurations.  
  
"What do you have?" Hermione asked the two boys as they received their schedules as well.  
  
"Divination," Harry said absently as he turned back to Ron.  
  
Hermione sighed. It was no use trying to get through to them. It just wasn't possible anymore. What had happened to the days when they were just friends because they enjoyed each other's company? When had Hermione been thrown the curve? Why was she all of a sudden on the outside of their circle? It wasn't fair and it certainly wasn't right.  
  
Taking one last sip of pumpkin juice, she headed out of the Great Hall and toward the dungeons, even though there was still twenty minutes until class started. She sat down on the floor and the hall and pulled out her book and began reading.  
  
At last, some of the others from the class started to arrive and they conversed quietly in separate groups. There were only about fourteen students in the class from all the Houses combined-most being from Slytherin. No big surprise there.  
  
Draco soon came walking down the corridor, talking to a raven-haired boy, whom Hermione recognized by sight. His last name began with a Z. Zabini was it? That sounded right. Hermione figured that they would go over and talk with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bullstrode, and was actually surprised when they both approached her. She raised her eyebrow slightly as she looked between the two boys. "Can I help you?" she asked.  
  
"Is that how you greet a friend, Hermione?" Draco replied with a mock hurt look on his face.  
  
Hermione frowned a little. "It's just startling that you would rather talk to me when you could be talking to someone like Parkinson instead."  
  
"Don't be silly. I'd much rather talk to you." Blaise elbowed him in the side and looked up at him expectantly. "Ah yes. Hermione, this is Blaise Zabini, my best friend in the world."  
  
Blaise took her tiny hand in his larger one and kissed it softly. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Granger. You do look very pretty today."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Was this boy actually put in the right House? A Slytherin with manners? Who would've thought? "The pleasure's all mine." She smiled at him as their eyes met.  
  
"All right, Zabini," Draco said as he pushed him aside. "Stop pretending to be charming. You know she won't fall for it."  
  
Hermione and Blaise shared a laugh and Hermione turned back to Draco. "Oh, but Draco, how do you know that I haven't already fallen for his dashingly good looks and his charming smile? I must admit, he can contend with you."  
  
Draco felt a pang of jealousy rush through his body. "But do you know how good of a kisser he is?" he whispered so that only the three of them could here.  
  
She felt a blush creep up to her cheeks as she turned away from him. "Well, I don't think I want to find out if he is as good as you," she admitted sheepishly. Draco looked up at Blaise with a look of triumph. "He might be better." She dared to look up at him once again as his face fell. Just then, the rest of the class stared filing through the door, so the odd-looking trio followed suit and they took the three seats in the back of the room.  
  
Once Snape had come barreling through the door and surveyed his class-his eyes lingering slightly longer on the back where Draco, Hermione, and Blaise sat-he began the lesson. They would be starting a very difficult healing potion that would heal the deepest wounds and the worst burns. Since they were still suffering through his class, he let them work in groups of two or three with whomever they pleased.  
  
This made Hermione, Draco, and Blaise happy, as they were all quite fond of the others potion-making abilities and brains. Both Draco and Blaise were brighter than they let others believe from first glance.  
  
They were diligently for the remainder of the period until they could do no more on it for that day. The rest would have to wait until the next class when they would add the next ingredients.  
  
Transfigurations went by rather quickly. Hermione was torn when she entered the classroom because it was now a choice to sit with Harry and Ron or Draco and Blaise. Draco and Blaise noticed her discomfort when they entered the room and told her to sit where she felt more comfortable.  
  
That was her problem, she couldn't decide. She was really having a good time with Blaise and Draco, but Harry and Ron were supposed to be her best friends. Neither of them even glanced in her direction when she walked in, so she continued to stay with the Slytherins instead.  
  
"What's going on with them?" Draco asked her once they were settled in the back.  
  
She shrugged and glanced longingly in the direction of her "friends." "I truthfully don't know anymore. They said they weren't mad at me and that they'd always be there for me, but they seem so preoccupied with girls and Quidditch that it's like I'm not even here. I don't get them, Draco. I didn't do anything to them and it's suddenly like I'm the enemy."  
  
Blaise didn't have any idea as to what she was talking about, so he decided to just listen and stay out of the conversation.  
  
"Did you try talking to them?" Draco questioned.  
  
She nodded slightly. "This morning at breakfast. But I don't know. They didn't appear to be interested in anything I had to say. It was never like this before. Not until this summer. They don't know what I want. They don't know who I really am."  
  
Draco looked at her quizzically. "Maybe it's 'cause you don't show them who you are. You tell me that you want more, but you don't say what you want, so maybe they're also having that problem and they just don't know how to approach you about it. Perhaps they are scared to find out who you really are because it won't be like what they've had for the past six years. Things would be different, and to some people different equals scary."  
  
Hermione sighed and looked up into Draco's grey eyes. They always seemed to entrance her. "I suppose you are right. Maybe it would be easier if I just remained who they want me to be."  
  
"But maybe it would be better for me if I knew who you really were," Draco suggested with a raised eyebrow.  
  
She stared at him, but didn't get the chance to respond as Professor McGonagall took that moment to stride into the classroom. She too let her eyes linger on the mismatched trio in the back of the room, but soon had the entire classroom taking notes.  
  
After Transfigurations was lunch. Hermione separated from her new friends to sit with Ron and Harry at the Gryffindor table.  
  
"How come you didn't sit with us last period?" Ron asked, stuffing his face with a potato.  
  
"Maybe it's because you were too busy flirting with Malfoy?" Harry answered for Hermione, glaring a little.  
  
Hermione clenched her jaw tightly. "I was not flirting with Malfoy," she said defensively. "He was trying to help me, which is more than I can say for the two of you. Just a few days ago you were swearing to always be there for me, and since we've returned you have done nothing but ignore me. It's like you don't even see me anymore, and I can't take it."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ron questioned as he swallowed. "You're the one who never gets involved in our conversations. You never say anything. You just sit there. It's not like we can help that, you know."  
  
Hermione looked at him incredulously. "Did it ever occur to you as to why I don't participate in you conversations?" When neither boy made an attempt to answer, she continued, "It's because you never talk about anything that would interest me. I mean seriously, Quidditch and girls. Tell me, where can I get involved?"  
  
"That's a no brainer, Hermione," Harry said. "There's plenty for you to talk about in those topics."  
  
With that, Hermione stood and huffed out of the Great Hall, heading toward the Head Boy and Girl dormitories. 


End file.
